


Blue Velvet (STATUS: IN REVISION)

by cafeinthemoon93



Category: Lana Del Rey (Musician), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux - Freeform, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Dessert & Sweets, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Food Kink, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Lilly/Lorna (OFC) - Freeform, Making Love, Making Out, Meedo (Original Food), Neck Kissing, Odbeei (Original Planet), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Planets, Pre-Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Pre-War, Sexual Content, Sharing Body Heat, Singing, Star Wars - Freeform, Starkiller Base, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 21:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafeinthemoon93/pseuds/cafeinthemoon93
Summary: Lilly - or Lorna, for some - left her town to live as a singer in the capital of her home planet, Odbeei, and to not care about any plans but her own. By the time she became popular among the capital's clubs, a military organization introduced as the First Order arrived at the planet to discuss political matters. None of this was of Lilly's concern until she performs in a reputable club to a selective audience and catches the attention of one of the Order's highest ranking officers.UPDATE- This work is having its text and grammar revised. Some parts are being rewritten.NOTES- The protagonist was mostly inspired by Lana Del Rey (you can tell it by the title)- Odbeei is an original planet (I didn't set its Rim)- Meedo is an original food but it's obviously a space sweet apple- Tags will be add/changed as the story goes on
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Lilly/Lorna (OFC), Armitage Hux/Original Character(s), Armitage Hux/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21
Collections: Star Wars, star wars





	1. Odbeei

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's me again writing another story with my boy and not regretting a single sentence lol
> 
> This one is not connected to the Millicent's saga and it's very shorter, since I'm unable to see a good love interest for him in anyone but Millie. But I hope you have fun reading this story as much as I have writing it ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was expected to sing at a high class club, but I found more than I could imagine there.

_ **"I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is (...) And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying"** _

_ **(Lana Del Rey, monologue for Ride)** _

This kind of people, no matter how much they cling to a particular standard, sometimes they just decide for the unusual. When it comes to mass murderers, it seems impossible that they just let someone escape; but sometimes, they do. There is no gain nor loss when they do this; they would simply let someone go.

I know this because I knew him. Or at least the side of him that he found it safe to reveal. It was thanks to a deviation in his standards that I am alive to tell this to you, to whoever I want in this Galaxy. He let me go... before destroying my home planet. Don't ask how or why – I myself don't know, I never understood it – but that's how it all happened, and at the end of the day it's all that matters. In some sort of twisted, strange way, he saved my life. I understand you don't appreciate to hear that, but seeing things this way was what prevented me from going mad.

My planet was called Odbeei.

It wasn't as beautiful as Corellia, nor as prosper as Coruscant, but life was good for many of us. It wasn't counted among the biggest, so it is possible to imagine the struggles faced by a native who wanted to find novelties of any kind or just walk away. You know, leaving your home, travelling far away, living a life of your own, in strange places where no one knows who you are.

This was precisely my idea of living a meaningful life. I always knew this plan would never be fulfilled in all of its details in such a small planet, but I didn't give up from it. I used to love my family and all the people I knew in my hometown, so far from the big cities, but I left them as soon as I got the chance.

I went to Odbeei's capital. I never had much money, nor any connections in that place, but I'm not going to wear you out talking about my financial difficulties. It's enough to say that after a year or two, I finally came to live the life I wanted, and I didn't regret any of those nights I slept on the floor or the meals I just couldn't pay for.

I learned to sing when I was still a kid, and with my voice I got my first credits. When I grew up, I was unable to see myself doing anything but that. I was aware that a singer's life is not a comfortable one, but it wasn't comfort I was looking for. As expected, the clubs in the capital were never too friendly with underground artists, especially if they were from distant regions, but somehow, as time passed, the credits I used to gain in one night came to be enough for me to get a place where I could lay my head in the next day.

For about five years I lived this way. My communications with my old friends survived for a while; then, they seemed to forget about me. And perhaps I did the same to them. Was it too selfish of me? Maybe. But I didn't see things through this perspective at that time. I didn't have a good perspective at that time anyway.

With the routine I set for myself, it's easy to understand that there wasn't much time for me to spent on HoloNet. I also wasn't an assiduous reader of holonews. But it didn't go unnoticed to me that unusual things started to happen in our politic scene. I don't have good memory for this kind of stuff, but it's funny that I can remember _this_.

It was in the vespertine holonews I first heard about the First Order.

I already made it clear that I didn't enjoy dissecting political matters and such. So I didn't give those news the attention they deserved; all that I could get from it was that the mentioned organization would soon arrive at Odbeei to discuss things of great importance.

I rolled my eyes and kept doing whatever I was doing at the time.

***

By the time I stumbled in the previously mentioned news, members of some well-regarded clubs were already familiar with my work, and sometimes they would get me a space in their agenda.

That particular night I was expected to perform in one of these clubs. I was anxious like never before, for that was my first time in that specific place and I knew well that the slightest sign of deception by the audience would set the end of my career – and then the end of my precious nomadic life. The case is that the club had the reputation of being visited by a very specific kind of people: people with the finest taste for music, as well as many credits in their wallets.

I can't remember the moments that preceded my entrance on the stage with precision. All I know is that the stage had more space that I was used to see in modest clubs and such an impressive light system, intensified by the reflection of the lamps on the golden floor. My eyes took longer than usual to gain focus; if the intention of those lights was preventing me from paying excessive attention to my audience, I can say they were doing an excellent job.

At least until I reached the microphone.

There, most of the light would stand behind me, and the figures sitting in the front row were clear to my eyes; all the rest was involved in shadows.

In fact, I didn't find it safe to examine the public for a very long time. As time passes, you learn to recognize that one you can call your familiar public and how to behave with them, as much as how to lead them. I didn't have such experience with the audience in question.

The music started. My heart pounded inside me to its first chords, and the pulsations were painful, but as soon as I took my breath and sang the first note the tension was gone, and I was back in my element.

I closed my eyes. It didn't matter the looks that I got from the rows of velvet seats, neither all the credits they've spent on the tickets or what would happen to me if someone got displeased. I had music, and only music mattered.

When I opened my eyes, I ventured to observe the front row. Despite what I just told you, the curiosity about what those people must be thinking could not be totally avoided. And the result of this observation, of course, had its impact. But it was not the impact I expected.

He was there.


	2. Remarkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I surprised myself by catching the attentions of a mysterious man in the front row. When the show was over, I didn't want to stay and face the people of the audience, so I tried to leave the place before anyone noticed, but my plans ended up frustrated by the intriguing man, who introduced himself as a General of the First Order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I get close to believe that Hux has no idea of how scary he can appear to strangers, but in the next moment I end up convinced that he knows and loves this superpower lol

_"Your name is for your life what a lightsaber is for a Jedi"_

_(Proverb from Odbeei)_

He was in the front row, at my left. I’ve never seen him before; I had no idea of who he must be. The only thing I knew for sure is that he was someone with a considerable level of importance, by the fact that he was there. However, something made me concentrate my attention on his figure, and under the appropriate limits, I started to observe him.

He certainly was not from Odbeei. His posture, the color of his skin and stuff like that made it clear he was a foreigner. Besides, his clothing style didn’t follow the planet’s fashion: unlike the vibrant tones we used to wear, they were black from head to toe, made with heavy fabric, accompanied by leather gloves and boots, like what we see in the closet of any inhabitant of cold regions.

I don’t know how long I’ve been looking, but I was sure it was for just a few seconds. Maybe time had deceived me, because someone at his side touched his arm, and his eyes turned to the stage, finding my own with the celerity of a blaster shot. I lowered my eyes at this, aware that my face must got as red as fire. For some kind of miracle, I managed to keep singing without messing up a single note after that.

At some point when the end of the night was approaching, I had the audacity of look at his direction again. I confirmed my suspicions: he had his gaze on me, and I also noticed that, while trying not to turn it away, he leaned toward a man sitting by his side (and who must have come with him, for he followed the same dress code) and whispered something; the man gave him a quick answer and he nodded, returning to his original posture and dedicating all his attention to the stage.

***

The people responsible for the financial matters of the club had the code of my bank account, so there was no need to discuss about the cache. I have to say that I used to find it quite an unpleasentness when I dealt with less prominent clubs, but with houses like that I’d have nothing to worry about.

I walked back to the room that was reserved for me as soon as I could. I removed my makeup, changed my clothes and prepared to leave the place, without questioning if it wasn’t appropriate to stay and socialize with the people of the audience. You see, I received no instructions on this matter, as well as I had no interest in playing this part. There was not much that people like that could say or do to keep me entertained, for their behavior would always lead them to one of these three lines of action: they would talk between them and treat me like I was a part of the scenario, or they would try to flatter me (though I can’t see what they could get from that) or – the worst of all – they would try to get certain services from me that I had neither the need or the intention to offer.

Outside the dressing room, I asked a woman of the staff for the less crowded exit corridor, and after her instructions, I followed toward there. It was a long corridor, as illuminated as much as the other places, and its floor was covered by a soft carpet.

This detail didn’t let me notice I was not alone there.

\- Is the mysterious vanishing a part of the show?

Though I still didn’t know his voice and my ears got a bit surprised by his foreign accent, there were no doubts about who had spoken.

I turned to find him in the middle of the corridor. I must've let a considerable astonishment show, because he smiled at the possibility of seeing me run away without answering his question, and started to walk toward me, his steps unhurried, his hands behind his back. However, like something in his way were attracting my eyes to his spot in the audience, now the same thing, trait – I don’t know how to call it – didn’t let my feet move.

It was only when he stopped before me that I noticed how young he was; it was strange that even being able to do a good examination of his appearance, I didn’t have connected his person to something like youth until now. Perhaps because of his seriousness, or the unusual black clothing, or something else. Something that had nothing to do with the superficial, but with the inner self. He was a head taller than me; shaping his face there was an impressive jawline; his rosy lips didn’t seem to be used to spontaneous smiles, which didn’t make them any less pleasing to look at; the blue shade of his eyes was almost transparent, if compared to the natives’ eyes; his hair had an exotic orange tone, and his skin was pale like the skin of someone who spent several months of the year away from direct sunlight. None of these were common to the people of Odbeei.

Finally, I could speak.

\- The mysterious vanishing is just... a mysterious vanishing, Sir.

His smile widened.

\- I see. Social demands scare you.

\- No. They just wear me out.

The counterpoint didn't make him lose his temper.

\- However, it would be a shame if you left without hearing a single word about your performance, Miss. Allow me to say that it was... Remarkable.

I know I blushed, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

\- Thank you, Sir... – that was when I noticed we didn’t introduce ourselves; I saw a strange badge on his coat, right upon his forearm: the same symbol I saw on the holonews early that day – I suppose you are a member of the First Order?

He soon offered to respond.

\- You are right. My apologies for not introducing myself in an appropriate way. I am General Armitage Hux – he offered me his gloved hand – I hope you don’t mind telling me your name, Miss.

I touched his palm with the points of my fingers; I couldn’t help thinking of it as trap when his hand clenched around them. But the grip wasn’t strong, and I saw no reasons to untie it.

\- I believe they announced my name before my entrance, General. It’s Lilly.

Then he held my hand a little more firmly.

\- No. What I’m asking for is your _real_ name, Miss.

For a moment, I was unable to move or speak. I don’t know if what startled me was the question itself or the fact that he was aware of the name culture that existed among our artistic scene. Today I understand that this rule was never exclusive of Odbeei, but for some reason I didn’t think someone like him would care about these matters. Well, at least he must had not understand how unusual it was to ask an artist their real name.

But the question was not rhetorical, and I heard myself revealing my name to him, something I’ve never done since I came to that city.

\- Lorna – I whispered.

After a long time not using it, the name my parents gave to me sounded weird to my own ears. I thought I wasn’t convincing, so I repeated it, more for myself and less for him.

\- My name is Lorna – and added – It’s not the most charming name you’ll hear in your life, Sir. Now you understand why I don’t use it openly.

He smiled. He didn’t hurry to answer; instead, he lowered his eyes to our hands, united, and took mine to his lips. They were warm – not cold as one part of me insisted to imagine as soon as I could see him so close. I believe he took a bit longer than what’s usual for greetings of that kind, but the discovery of that detail about his lips suffocated any discomfort.

When he straightened up, his answer was just like his kiss.

\- I understand that no name can be charming if the owner is not. Whether it is the name you were given, or the one you have chosen for yourself.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know what to think, neither about what he was saying or what he was doing; that was such an unusual man, and I think he would be in any planet he would put his feet on. I found it better to end the conversation and say goodbye.

\- If you excuse me, Sir, I need to go now. I’m really tired.

That was true, but I’m not sure if my justification convinced him. Anyway, I was determined to go away at that moment, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. The General let me remove my hand from his and put his own behind his back, taking a step behind and nodding.

\- Go. A time for rest is more than deserved after an exciting night like this.

He said this more calmly than it was conceivable, or maybe I was so tired as I wanted to look and thus unable to judge his tone with precision. I nodded and turned my back to him, hurrying to reach the exit door. When I first breathed the fresh air of the night, my heart calmed down and the strange sensation in my throat was gone. There were still some people of the public lingering at the club’s surroundings – probably those ones who exceeded themselves with alcohol – but I did my best to avoid them and ran to the nearest public transport station.

For the rest of the night, after spending hours awake, lying on my bed, I kept thinking about how strange that he showed no hurry in his treating. But it was only a few days after that the reason for that became clear.

He was expecting to meet me again.


	3. Purple Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Singing in the clubs, fine clubs or not, was one thing. Singing in the street stages was something different. It certainly seemed weird to try and lead his attentions to me so freely like i didn't dare in the club. But in the past, I would say I could only be myself in the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Street art has a magic scent of its own, and I was so curious to see how Armitage would react to such thing that I let my mind wander a bit in this chapter. But I'm not regretting a single word of it.

_"_ _I thought love was on the stage"_

_(Florence and the Machine, Hunger)_

There was a place in the city that became my favorite since my first the day here.

It was what one could call a great market: an extensive, roofless territory that turned into a commercial district, where we could find everything we wanted, in all colors, sizes and levels of quality. Crowds of people would fill it, but its streets were large enough to house all the tourists, natives and merchants who depended on it. It used to open every day and for entire cycles, so you didn't need to adapt your agenda to be able to visit it.

I used to go there in the middle of the week, at the evening, when I knew I would be free from any commitments. Sometimes I would go with some friends, but most of the times I would just walk alone in the streets; I would visit shops, observe the colorful tents and buy the items I believed to be worthy (and which would not drain my financial resources). I also used to talk to some of the oldest merchants, especially the non-humans; I would listen to their stories of old, when the market was infinitely smaller and didn't attract much people, and in return I would sing some of their favorite songs. I even learned some songs in alien languages, but I can't remember their complete lyrics now.

I believe that my greatest reason to love the market was the fact that I could walk through its streets without feeling exposed or watched. On the stage I was always observed, of course, but I had the control over what was seen; in my life outside of it, this kind of control didn't exist.

It was one of those evenings, maybe two days after my performance at that club, followed by the strange conversation with the man that introduced himself as General Hux. It was understandable that, after that encounter, I started to pay more attention to the holonews, and because of that I found out the First Order would stay in Odbeei for one more week. Which meant that he must still be around.

Maybe he was closer than I could imagine.

I was standing before a tent of a florist and found a bouquet of purple passions. It was a beautiful one, with four or five buds that were about to blossom, wrapped together by a brown, rustic stripe. I've always found them a magnificent species, but long time ago I convinced myself that, by their usual price, they would remain out of my reach forever.

I forgot to mention that, despite some products were sold at an impressive cost, some of the sellers were not as bitter as the prices. So, the woman of that tent, noticing my interest in that bouquet, insisted with me to take it. First, I shyly refused, but soon I was explaining to her that I would have to sing for a century to pay for those flowers and I would probably lose my voice before reaching my goal.

The florist laughed and was about to say something, but she fell silent when a second client approached.

\- Would you mind telling me how much these flowers cost, ma'am? I'm interested on them.

I turned my neck to his side as soon as I recognized his voice.

He was pointing at the purple passions that were close to my hands; I cringed instinctively. The woman repeated the price, and he paid for the flowers without hesitating or trying to negotiate the cost. He thanked the seller but didn't wait for her to separate the bouquet and give it to him: he took the flowers by himself, observing them, oblivious to both of us and everything around.

\- It would be a shame if we come to see the day when your voice will not be heard anymore – he said as he touched the petals; he looked at me and, with a curious smile, offered me the bouquet – Now you own the flowers, and your voice will remain untouched.

I took the bouquet so carefully as if the flowers were burning, but finally they were wrapped around my hands, as I was trying to accept the fact that now they belonged to me. When I looked up, I noticed he was staring at me, waiting for an answer. I must have taken so long to process what just happened that I didn't realize I should say "Thank you" before anything else.

Instead, I asked him to accompany me in my wandering through the market.

\- Naturally, if you have some time for such thing, Sir.

Soon he said he did.

We left the flower tent and followed among the next ones, I myself concentrated on the bouquet, the General occupied in processing everything he was seeing. But his eyes wouldn't settle on anything for a long time; he didn't seem the kind of person who takes time with what can't bring him no benefits, no matter how much pleasing or attractive it looks. Thinking of this brought back that suffocating sensation in my throat. Why was he seeking for opportunities to be with me?

\- During these few days since we arrived at Odbeei, our deals didn't start but after several hours after noon – he started – I must say that it seemed unusual to me.

\- Unusual?

\- Correct me if I am wrong, but you don't seem to care much about using the first hours of the day to solve priorities.

These words confirmed what I thought about him as someone attached to order and pro activity. It was still too soon to say if I'd appreciate it or not, but a spark of patriotic pride – or personal pride in disguise – made me reply to his statement with less docility that I intended.

\- General, I'm not familiar with your routine as a military man, and I also don't know much about the management of cycles in other planets, but here in Odbeei we do things the way that seems to work for us. And we've been doing this for too long to consider drastic changes right now. It's understandable that some cultural traits of a planet look strange for a foreigner, but I'm personally satisfied with this philosophy. I believe it is wiser to focus on taking care of things with the attention they deserve than on being too rigid with the time of the day when we do it.

Different from what I expected, he didn't look irritated or offended by what he heard. Could he be someone who would rather concentrate on the things themselves instead of the manners of who said them?

I had no the time to find out, for I needed to focus on what he would say in answer.

\- Fair enough. I apologize if the way I put the question was offensive for you. But I'd like you to understand that things like free time and flexibility are not a common trait of my days.

Of course. I've been living for so long a life separated from the other people's, so distant from anything that remind me of routines that I didn't came to see that what we were doing now – walking around a crowded place and speaking amenities – was anything but uncommon for someone in his position. I immediately felt the need to apologize.

I stopped and turned to him.

\- I'm so sorry. I don't want your few hours of freedom to turn into a burden.

He smiled.

\- There is no reason to worry about. Especially when these few hours of freedom can be spent in such a delightful company – and before I could think of something to say, he opened his arm in a gesture that indicated all the available ways ahead – I would be glad if you'd choose where we should go now.

I looked around, and even when I knew the places to where each of them would lead us, I hesitated for a moment, then turned to him and smiled.

\- Do you trust my judgment, General?

He nodded but didn't turn his eyes from my face.

\- This is why I am still here.

***

We were passing through a large street, as crowded as the previous ones, but with no tents on its sidewalks. In their place there were artists of all kinds: painters, actors, dancers, musicians playing native instruments, foreigners and aliens singing or reciting poems in their mother tongues; there were also philosophers preaching about the ways of the Force to disciples sitting around them, as well as those ones we used to call nature-masters, teaching secret recipes of an infinity of herbs and roots used with medical purposes for free.

I was more than ued to that miscellany of colors and sounds, and I've come to love it as a smaller version of the Galaxy inside the original one; so, I walked among the people and the attractions as if I was in my living room. I couldn't say the same about the General: though he stood up with his manners and tried to remain calm, he didn't succeed in hiding that all those sources of sensory stimulation were not his first idea of having fun. He was looking around as someone who wanted to understand what he sees, but without the need to think of it as something of good taste or pleasing; he was, however, too polite to make rude observations, especially after what we talked about the cycles in Odbeei.

By those reasons, it was a great relief for both of us when just ahead in our path, we found something that mutually interested us.

It was one of those small, open stages for amateur singers and musicians that could be found in many corners of the market. Those lowered wood platforms, too close to the sidewalk's ground, were among the most appreciated things by both natives and tourists in the city: they weren't just a good instrument to relaxation, but also the very beginning of the career of many of our stage professionals; I myself started in one of them.

There was a man singing a modern version of a song that was popular two decades ago in our planet, playing a hand harp with many strings. I knew most of the lyrics, but I didn't want to take the risk of surpassing the singer with my voice, so I sang along with whispers. I didn't look on his direction, but I knew the General was paying attention; I couldn't tell if the show matched his taste, so I preferred to count on the possibility of him finally finding something that caught his genuine interest.

\- It was on one of these stages that I first performed when I came to this city – I told him after the musician finished the song and was about to leave the platform – I miss them.

He turned to me.

\- Here is your chance to revisit them.

I was caught by surprise with his quick reaction to what I said. I considered to say that we should move ahead, but the way he smiled when he offered to hold the bouquet convinced me to stay, and I let him softly take the flowers from my hands.

I walked to the edge of the platform and talked to the responsible for it, a Bothan dressed in a red tunic who consented with just a few words and pointed at a pile of instruments at a corner. I thanked him but explained that I'd rather sing with free hands. He nodded and gestured to the stairs beside the stage, through which I was supposed to make my entrance.

There was a microphone on a stand at the center; I took it and left the stand aside. I said good evening to the people around, introduced myself and announced the song.

I used to love the street stages for many reasons, one of them being the chance of staying so close to the people that I was able to see the bright in their eyes and their mouths curling in genuine smiles, as well as hearing some of them mumbling along and clapping their hands. It wasn't different that time, even when some of the youngest were not familiar to the chosen song: most of them was paying attention to what they were seeing and hearing, and I felt like the first times I stood on similar stages in other parts of the city, and I raised my voice without caring about anything but what I was doing.

However, it wasn't the attentions of the tourists that interested me most at that time.

He was a little apart from the others, in a spot where he had a clear view of the stage. As he did in the club, he observed each of my movements, and sipped the sang notes as if they were his favorite drink. In his eyes I noticed a glimmer that I wasn't able to see at the club because of the distance between the stage and the rows. It was not just the bright of pure artistic contemplation: with that there was something else, something that even now I find difficult to explain; it was like he was taken by some addiction, craving for more. I was sure that if I stayed and sing for an entire cycle, he would still be there to listen.

The strangest thing in all of this was finding myself willing to see it.

With the progress of the music, I would dedicate more and more efforts to keep his eyes glued on me, his concentration on my notes. I risked a smile when with his gaze, he made it clear that he was aware of what I was trying to do. Somewhere in my mind, a little voice was pointing out how unusual it seemed that I was having so much fun for catching the attentions of that man, for I haven't talk to him more than two times and didn't knew much about him apart of his name and his function.

Being at that open space surely was helping me; being there was not like being in the club. In that place, the lights and the looks of people who watching me would pierce my skin; their whispering and their judgment would dissect me, examining me as a wild species. In the street, it was I that would lead them; the pieces were all mine, and no one would make any move without my consent. There, I could fix my eyes on anything and anyone I choose and reach them with just the strength of my voice.

In the club, it was like having those eyes on me could kill me. In the street, I seemed to need them to survive.

Finally, the song ended.

I put the microphone back on the stand, left the stage through the same stairs, exchanged a few polite words with the Bothan and walked away, seeking the General's company. He gave my flowers back; as I settled them in my hands, I felt suddenly shy. Now that I was no longer away from him, protected by a wooden level that would keep me right above the ground, it was impossible not to hear the same little voice screaming inside my head: what the hell I was thinking?

All I knew is that the closer I came to him, the less I cared about thinking. I also knew that if I spent more time by his side, things would not follow a different direction.


	4. The Galaxy's Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We came to the moment when I was supposed to run. But I already knew what I would do instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These lyrics by David Bowie were so fitting that I couldn't think of any other song to put here as an epigraph. I wanted the interactions between Lilly and Hux to be hot and exotic at the same time, as the deals between an human and an alien would be. The lamps would set the scenario for them with their blended shades, resulting in something tender, relaxing, sexy and beautiful.
> 
> I'm also considering to edit my tags and exclude "Slow Burn" because I don't see this whole thing as SB. I'm really trying to make things more spicy, which is not a great trait of my works, but I believe I'll only succeed in future chapters, when we see these two sweeties in different plac- NO NO SPOILERS

_“Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe_

_Put your ray gun to my head_

_Press your space face close to mine, love_

_Freak out in a moonage daydream”_

_(David Bowie, Moonage Daydream)_

Right after leaving that street crowded with artists, we reached an isolated path that led to countless terraces illuminated by delicate lamps with color shades that would go from soft green to bloody red, from peachy pink to violet and lapis-lazuli. The lights were all around us and above our heads, but their tender disposition gave us the sensation of floating, while creating interesting effects on the ground and the rails.

If someone looked down from these rails, they would see a narrow river that could be taken by a channel. This river crossed the city and was baptized as Baasu, in honor of an historical Senator. A well-known part of it was exactly under the place in which we were standing: the small Aquatic Terminal, were some ferries would line up carrying tourists and entertaining them with independent restaurants, bars, musicians, and many other sources of pleasure. Everything was always confusing to the eyes of an inexperienced observer, and even more from the shores, but we just had to explain that the river will get larger ahead, and then the whole system was suddenly understood.

That was an explanation I felt to be unnecessary to the General. He seemed interested on what was going on there, and he didn’t say a word during his observations, but when his attention finally turned from Baasu, this was what he said:

\- The longer the tourists get stuck in the ferries, the more interesting the attractions need to be, and bigger are the chances for the ferrymen to see the tourists leave their credits with them. I suppose the ferries do not have visible chronos.

\- No – I said, not hiding the fact that his deductions were enough to impress me – Nor the tents on the shores.

He nodded.

\- Yes. A very clever strategy.

We were standing under lilac and red lamps, their colors blending as they touched our skins and clothes. Now that the twilight was gone and there was no sunlight left in the sky, the lights intensified, and the resulting shade would set as peach in my dress, as well as in his skin, so distinct from our people. What his reaction would be if he could see himself under that light’s influence? Should have I say something about it? No; it was better to remain quiet.

He noticed my silent concentration.

\- Can you tell me what’s on your mind?

He asked with the low voice of someone who knows that what they just said could have sounded intrusive in the wrong tone. I never had great talent to find apologies or improvising when something or someone surprised me, but I believe I did a good job at that moment.

\- I’m trying to decide what to ask without feeling like a fool. You’re a bit... hard to read, Sir.

He smiled as if he was having real fun with that.

\- It is necessary for me to be like this. But go ahead. What do you want to know?

I looked at the sky, partly obfuscated by the lamps, trying to think of something. I was so surprised with myself: just a week ago, I didn’t even know who he was, and now there were already so many things I wanted to know about him, that I’d like to hear, to see… What was so interesting about him that made me act that way? What was going on with me that I couldn’t prevent myself from carrying on with it?

This is what I asked:

\- What’s your favorite part in the whole Galaxy? – I smiled – I mean, you must have seen so many things, Sir… But maybe there’s something that’s precious to you... above everything.

His eyes met mine when he heard the word _precious_. I saw a glimpse of something new in them, something that interested and frightened me.

\- This is not nearly a foolish question. With only it, you could discover so much. Things you might expect… or not – he laughed when he noticed the effect of his words – But I believe you are expecting some concise answer.

It didn’t go unnoticed to me that he was trying to see the sky through the lamps as he spoke.

\- Among everything I’ve ever seen, and everything I will might see, the stars are what I appreciate most. You see, all the rest tend to change, and leave their original state to another, so strange, mostly incomprehensible, in such a short amount of time, which often results in disorder. It is not like this with the stars. We cannot follow their changes in our short life, but we can understand them. They won’t happen if not orderly, and with very defined ends. They have nothing like a conscience, but they seem to know, each of them, about their places among others. I believe we have too much to learn with them.

I had my elbows on the parapet, the flowers between my arms above the stone, my eyes fixed on him. The things he was saying, the way he was saying them, silenced everything around us; I wasn’t – I didn’t want to listen to anything but his voice, anything that wasn’t about the stars. Not that he talked about them like a master trying to teach a disciple about the ways of the Force; there was nothing mystic about him. It was more like an artist showing his favorite combinations of colors and shades, or a man of Science explaining what he used to feel about the progress of an experiment.

Finally, I understood the reason of his discomfort during our wandering, among all those people: it was not just because his place wasn’t in Odbeei – his place was in no land, no ground. It was among the stars.

Here I believe I also figured out what attracted me so much to him. He was the first individual of this kind I met.

\- I can understand this – I said, seeing that he finished his meditation – The people, the things we find in the planets don’t… settle. We can’t trust them the way we do with the stars.

He nodded without a word. My fear of leaving prudence aside and step into a forbidden territory just disappeared.

\- I understand that you, Sir, can’t allow yourself to put your trust in anyone. This sort of care doesn’t exist when you think about the stars… right?

\- Yes. Anywhere we go, even on the Galaxy’s edge, this does not change.

Suddenly, the conscience of something made me laugh, and he turned to me, a bit surprised.

\- I’m sorry – I felt my face burning when he fixed his eyes on me – But it’s so strange that, despite what you just said, Sir, you are here confiding this to me, when we met just a few days ago.

I thought he would get irritated, even offended, by that. But his answer was preceded by a smile. One different from the others, though I was unable to explain why.

\- Indeed – he took a step closer to me, his eyes glued on mine – And as I do it, you listen to me.

Many was figured out by me in that conversation. But at the moment I heard that, I found out what made me think of him with something close to fear. The case was that, with any other person, I felt I could just turn my back and run whenever I wanted, with no restraints, pain or guilt. With him, however, it was impossible. With him, my feet wouldn’t move; I wouldn’t let them. I _wanted_ to stay, and keep listening to him, to observe him, to have his eyes on me, to give in to his strange examination as if I depended on it to stay whole, being my true self, who I wanted to be.

How could I explain to him that I didn’t understand the reason why I felt that way, that I didn’t understand what was going on with me, and that I was too afraid to find out the answers?

\- Maybe... It’s because I understand… Because that’s the way I see music – I couldn’t think of anything better to say, as much as I didn’t want to talk about myself.

I felt a touch on my left hand, so subtle that I almost thought it wasn’t but an impression. I lowered my eyes and saw his fingers trying to reach mine, taking them from the flowers. If there were any other person in his place, I would certainly break the contact and go away without looking back. But not that time; not with him. I let our hands tangle together; the heat of his glove surrounded mine and convinced me to stay and find out what was going to happen. His fingers led my hand to his lips, as they did before, but they didn’t let go of it this time: they took my hand to his face, making a tender pressure between my palm and his skin, and they only moved away when he was sure I wouldn’t remove mine.

I didn’t. With my thumb I touch his cheekbone; my other fingers followed his jawline, until reaching his chin. His skin was warm there, soft thanks to some kind of lotion that I suspect only a few would have the ways to afford, as well as I was sure that he never let his beard grow. Then I realized I wouldn’t be satisfied with just touching it this way, and – I couldn’t help but notice it – he was expecting more; but I wasn’t feeling as audacious as on the stage, so I didn’t do anything more than approach and leave a kiss on his face, close to the corner of his mouth.

I moved away to see what he would do next, but I didn’t get the chance to go too far. I said that we were standing before one of the parapets on those terraces; before I could think of a reaction, he put his arms around me in a way that I had my back against the cold stone of the parapet now, and my ribs received the pressure of his body against mine; I couldn’t walk away. But he didn’t smother nor hurt me, and I saw no reasons to tell him to step back. I felt the petals on my collarbone and knew that some of them would end up sticking on my skin, or getting inside my cleavage.

My restlessness was soon sensed by him, and he approached, whispering in my ear:

\- So shy – a muffled laugh, but with no sarcasm – Is this new to you?

It wasn’t. I had some dates after moving to that city, and in my hometown I had a boyfriend who I left behind, just like everything else. But something different was happening now, with which I had no familiarity. I didn’t know, then, how to explain what I felt to him.

I ended up saying that I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It wasn’t exactly true, and I wasn’t hoping he would believe me without second thoughts; however, he didn’t say anything about it. I let him go ahead; I closed my eyes and focused on his hands, one stroking my back, keeping me close, the other’s fingers exploring the lines of my face as my own did to him before; his gloved thumb parted my lips, and finally came the kiss.

He knew well what he was doing, which didn’t surprise me at all. I was aware that, if it depended on him alone, he’d already have done that, but I was glad to see that, among other things, he was endowed with exceptional patience. He didn’t force or hurry my reactions and directed his own according to my responses. I can’t say I trust people easily, but he managed to make me trust him enough to let him lead everything, so concentrated in showing that I was craving for more.

When he moved for a moment, I turned to leave the flowers beside us upon the stone. Then I turned back, leaning to him, on tip toes, my hands on his shoulders, squeezing the fabric of his uniform between my fingers, telling him to carry on and don’t take time into consideration.


	5. Among the Common People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now I had not only my mind to accuse me but two of my dearest friends. Not that they suspected anything, nor that I told them where I was getting into, but you don't turn your back on a true friend unless you have a great reason... Or you have no heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was revising the first part of this chapter, I thought that the meedo stuff inadvertently brought some Lolita vibes to the story. Also there is no time gap between this and the next chapter, so my initial plan was to post them both on the same day, but I didn't translate a line of the next one yet (shame on me). Anyway the next chapter will come soon

_“Old friends have said, the books I've read_

_Say it's the thing to do_

_But it's hard to see it when you're in it_

_Cause I went blind for you”_

_(Florence and the Machine, Caught)_

Sometimes I wonder if everything happened in just a week or a month, or even in a year. If during the day or by the night. And if it happened to me, or to someone else, similar to myself. There are times when I wonder if it really happened at all, and I consider searching for the coordinates of my home planet in a spaceship panel and following them, imagining I would still find it, with its atmosphere crowded with color, music and people.

Today, all attempts of investigation would be proved worthless. The only two sources to find the truth are a waste of time: the first one, the official documents of Odbeei, were completely destroyed; the second, my memory, is less reliable than the promises of deals made by the First Order.

But that wasn’t what I saw while I still had my home, my town, my planet. That wasn’t what I wanted to see.

I met him on the days the followed the one when he bought me the flowers. You would never think that I didn’t look for opportunities, but the truth is that I didn’t need to. I rarely stayed at home to do something but eating or sleeping, for I used to travel all around the city to do my business or have fun by the afternoons and would stay at the streets until I had to go to this or that club where I was supposed to sing. He, on his turn, spent his days on conference with the people of his position, and by the end of the day, when he wasn’t resting in his hotel room, he was walking on the streets among the tourists, or attending the clubs. We were always at the same places when we weren’t working. I suppose he had his ways to find out where I would be at certain hours or days, but I’d rather think he appreciated the casualty of our meetings as much as I did; at least he never showed signs that he had anticipated my agenda or actively looked for me.

That was the atmosphere during our next meeting, right after that one when we kissed.

My time to go to the current club was approaching, and I was preparing to leave the place I was. I have a memory of just buying a meedo, a candy that consisted of a fruit covered with crystalized caramel and powdered with something spicy that I only found out of Odbeei a long time later, and while I was holding the candy’s stick, I was carrying a bag in my shoulder with everything I’d need for the performance: makeup, and a blue velvet dress I used to like a lot. The case is that this time the club was a middle-classed one, and I preferred to use my own stuff to sing at this kind of place.

On my way, I passed by a decoration store and saw a flower-shaped lamp, with colors that reminded me of those ones at the terrace, and I smiled at the similarity. I slowed my feet to observe it carefully and ended up standing by the showcase; the glass blended both the content inside the shop and the reflections of everything that was happening outside.

Thanks to that, I saw when he came.

I immediately turned in his direction before he could speak a word. I knew I must have had my face as red as my meedo, and I noticed my hand clenching tightly around the handle of my bag, but none of them were under my control. I also thought that my lips must got rosy by the caramel, which was not something I could count in my favor.

Many times when we were in each other’s company, I found myself feeling glad for him to be too polite to make certain appointments. That was one of those occasions.

\- Meedos are not your best choice when you’re about to do your makeup – I said in jest.

He smiled and asked what meedos were.

\- This – I pointed the candy.

\- Interesting...

I didn’t think it was the most appropriate thing to say about a dessert, but I kept this to myself. I offered it to him, who accepted it less by education than real interest in its flavor. When it gave it back to me and licked his lips, I realized that I should’ve warned him about the spicy powder, but soon I saw it would’ve been unnecessary. He didn’t hide how much he approved the taste. The caramel, by the way, would not leave one’s lips unless they used water to clean it; I tried not to stare at his lips, now red by the syrup, but without success.

He noticed and turned to smile.

\- May I suggest you something?

I couldn’t imagine what it would be, but I nodded.

\- Pretend the meedo is your makeup. You certainly know about the color it leaves on the lips.

\- Are you serious, Sir? – I had to laugh; I wasn’t sure if he was playing or not.

He laughed too.

\- Unless it is uncomfortable to you, of course.

I said I would accept his suggestion and that it would help me to save time, for I got to go to a certain club at that moment. He asked if he could follow me, and even stay to watch the show. I hesitated at this.

\- You can come with me if you wish, Sir, but you might not appreciate the place. It is not a club like that one you were at when we first met.

His interest didn’t diminish at the possibility of being in a place less suitable for his class.

\- I see. But you understand that it is not exactly the place I intend to appreciate.

My face blushed when I heard it, but I smiled and said we were better get going.

***

We reached the place in a few minutes.

Houses like that didn’t use to get crowded, so there were always tickets left. I had no doubt that he would get his own, maybe even one in the front row’s seats, but some part of me couldn’t help thinking that if the tickets were sold out, he could offer a reasonable amount of credits for someone to find a place for him.

I got to the dressing room alone (in clubs like that there were not many advisors among the staff), and the first thing I did was stand before the mirror. The small lights around it were of a good quality, so I could see precisely the reason why he suggested the caramel as makeup. At first, I was determined to clean it, but I ended up leaving it and taking care of the rest. Soon I was dressed, and my hair was brushed. A girl knocked on my door and told me I should go to the stage in a few moments. I nodded and thanked her.

I was so distracted that I didn’t feel any spark of anxiety after leaving the room.

***

The lights didn’t blind me as those ones in the other club, so my eyes could effortlessly pass through the audience to find out if he got his place. I spotted him at one of the first rows, on a high-end seat, so conspicuous in a place frequented by middle-class people, young bohemians and aliens. He attracted some suspicious looks but didn’t seem to worry about anything but the stage before him. I felt some kind of apprehension while I was looking for him, but it soon disappeared when I found his spot.

I didn’t have a big group of musicians to accompany me that time: instead I was with Soosa and Eshaak, a couple of Togrutas I met by the year I came to the city; they were excellent with strings, and I was happy to introduce them to the presents. I have a memory of smiling and saying some friendly words after telling them our names, however I knew who I was addressing. The voice in my head was still telling me that I shouldn’t come to depend too much on his attentions, but I kept ignoring it as holostatic noise.

Another memory I have is that I’ve sang an unusual number of songs that dealt with the same things: leaving behind everything you want to leave behind. Leaving your home, your people, your name and all signs of the skin they’ve created for you to wear, in order to sew your own where and how you choose. Of course I’ve sang them many times before, and I wrote most of them; have that performance happened in any other time of my life I wouldn’t even remember of being at that club once, but the imminence of what came right after that forced my memory to maintain the impassible and even cruel order of the facts.

After a few songs, we took a little break and went to the backstage. I didn’t use to talk much more than necessary by the few minutes that I would have to dedicate to re-do my makeup, hydrate my throat, change a shoe that could have left a blister in my heel and other small incidents, but that time my friends seemed eager to talk to me.

\- Have you seen who is out there, among the common people? – Soosa said in an incredulous whisper as she changed her high heels for something more comfortable.

I froze at that, but I pretended to look at the mirror and examine my makeup as I asked who she was talking about.

-Who?! – Eshaak intervened, helping Soosa with her shoes and putting the other ones in a box – You saw him. That General of the First Order, the guy who arrived at Odbeei just a week ago and thinks he owns the planet. I can’t imagine what he might have come to do here.

I don’t like to lie or act my reactions, so I’ve never succeeded at that. So much that both the Togrutas stared at me weirdly when I stood like “Oh, that guy” in something that was meant to be a surprised gesture. Soosa laughed heartily at my expression. I could never convince them when I did that.

\- You never learn, girl! When was the last time you watched the holonews? Last month? He’s none other than the man in charge of that twisted version of the Imperial Death Star that his people like to call Starkiller Base. Just hearing this name sends chills down my spine.

Eshaak was standing beside me looking at the mirror, examining his clothes and his instrument at the same time; how did he manage to do that, I’ve never found out. I stepped aside to give him space and walked to the other side of the backstage to find something to drink.

\- Just knowing that I’m playing music for that man to listen, I shiver! – he replied to is wife; but soon he turned his attention to me, suspicious of my quietness – Lilly, on the other hand, seemed so calm and smiling that I almost believed…

I dropped the bottle on the table and almost choke with its content.

\- You almost believed...? – I asked when I was able to use my voice again.

Eshaak turned serious and Soosa alternated his gaze between us until he spoke again.

\- I almost believed that you knew him or have the power to defend us from the entire First Order! – he forced a smile, but none of us girls was convinced; he noticed and added – I can’t decide which of these two possibilities is the most absurd!

I was spared from answering, because we had to go back for the second part of our show.

All the anxiety I didn’t feel on my way to the club came then to make that second part the hardest thing I did in a long time. I tried to maintain the enthusiasm of the first part, but I’m aware that I didn’t succeeded. The songs were now slower, more introspective, and I felt my eyes burning to tears during many notes, but I forced my voice to remain strong.

It was with anything but relief that I saw the last song come to its end. I thanked the audience for us three and left the stage faster than I intended. My friends followed me, worried. But talking was the last thing I wanted at that moment.

I was about to pass the exit door at the back of the club when I heard Soosa’s voice.

\- Are you ok?

I didn’t lie to her. I was not ok.

\- No. I need to go home. I’m sorry for leaving without a word.

She approached me.

\- Is there something we can do for you? – and after a pause when she seemed to find out the source of the trouble – Look, if what we said disturbed you, I apologize, though I can’t understand…

I raised my hands.

\- No, you don’t have to do this…

\- But...

\- Please, no!

I regretted using that tone with Soosa, who I was so affectionate to, and who didn’t deserve such treatment, nor what happened to her a few days after. Eshaak came at this moment and heard what was said, but he didn’t reply.

\- I’m sorry. I just...

I turned my back on them before the first tear come out and went to the night hoping they didn’t follow me.

I didn’t go home. I turned around the club’s grounds and stood by the entrance, as people left the place in groups, all of them too busy with their conversations and laughter to notice my presence. All except for one.

I was leaning my back on the wall immediately aside the open door, and with the corner of my eye I could see him approaching with his slow steps. I stood straight, and without trying to hide that I was crying, I looked him into his eyes. He didn’t make questions; he raised his gloved hand and wiped away my tears, then his fingers followed the shape of my face, and he took time observing it; if he was just studying my emotions or if he was really interested in them, I can’t tell you.

What I know – what I always knew, since that which was the last time I saw Soosa’s eyes and read in them the concern we only see in a true friend’s eyes – is that I should have walked away without apologies or justifications. I should have stopped his hand and said to him not to touch me again. That he shouldn’t continue to meet me. And that he certainly needed the First Order more than he needed me, who had nothing to give but my voice and some tender smiles to his compliments. There are so many things I should have done.

But what I should have done is not what I did. I never do what I have to do.


	6. Slow Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He proved me right in my hypotesis of him having the stars as his element. But it wasn't enough. He needed to show me how easy it could be just giving up on everything to follow him, as much as he needed to make me want such fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up between them, guys ( *-*) While I was writing this chapter I was listening to Bauhaus almost ininterruptedly, so I might have included some goth, dramatic and sexy visual elements here. I kinda always see this side of Hux's character here and there, but mostly contained under the stoic military stuff, as something forbidden to an observer's eyes, so I felt like I was saying goodbye to this "rule" when I had the first visual ideas for this chapter. I hope you like it ;)

_“Fate_

_Up against your will_

_Through the thick and thin_

_He will wait until_

_You give yourself to him”_

_(Echo and the Bunnymen, The Killing Moon)_

_“I want to satisfy_

_The undisclosed desires in your heart”_

_(Muse, Undisclosed Desires)_

When I told him that I wanted to stay at anywhere away from that place, he didn’t question me about what have happened, didn’t suggest it would be better if I’d go back home nor offered himself to go with me. All he did was pulling me close and saying that he knew a place where I could get some rest. I didn’t ask where this place was, nor did I show any surprise or interest; I just nodded and let him lead me.

It was indeed a distant place. We had to fly for some minutes in a small ship (if it was his property or the First Order’s, I can’t tell you), during which none of us spoke. My eyes were closed, but I was away from getting to sleep; I had my head laying on his shoulder, and his arm was around me; from time to time, I would open my eyes for a moment and see him distracted, looking through the hatch, the flashes of other ships’ light beacons passing fast by us, punctuating the lack of light inside our ship. Everything in it, by the way, was black: the inner walls, the seats, the panel. Part of me thought that a crime could be committed there without leaving a visible stain; right after, I thought bitterly, yet I let myself enter it and be led to the Force knows where.

I said I didn’t sleep during the travel, but when I the ship reached our final destiny and its door was opened, I left my seat feeling like I just woke up. Little by little, I realized I must be at a hangar, surrounded by some kind of platform beyond which we could see countless buildings; then I understood we were at the roof of one of them. No much light was visible but those ones coming from the hundreds of windows on these buildings, as well as from the ships crossing orderly the spaces between them.

He held my hand, and only when we started to walk away from the hangar, I noticed that it was cold and windy.

***

I didn’t immediately comprehend the apartment’s dimensions, but I was aware it was ample. That kind of place always was. I was also unable to see if the furniture’s organization and the sober, dark decoration were a part of the original plan for the property or if they were a solicitation of its current inhabitant. Under my feet, as far as my eye could see, there was a carpet that would become black on the darkest corners, but grey under the soft lights that descended from the ceiling. Half of the walls were actually transparisteel barriers overlooking the most crowded and agitated zones of the city; the profusion of lights and movement wouldn’t disturb one’s eyes: instead, they would create a soothing effect, for everything was slow and silent at that distance.

I was at some point that I thought to be the center of the apartment, which rooms were not separated by walls except for the refresher and another place that was probably an office (people like him, who always carry the job with them, were the only ones who can pay to sleep on a place like that). I took off my shoes (they started to hurt me) and took some timid steps toward the external lights to relax my feet.

When he approached, I noticed he took off his greatcoat and gloves, and was on barefoot. I was holding my hands together in front of my body, my fingers pinching the dress’ fabric, the light creating shapes on its blue at my movements.

\- You live among this... all the time?

I wanted to laugh, but I knew it wasn’t the time for that. He still didn’t believe that I somehow managed to make home out of that vibrant and noisy place.

\- It’s not like a burden to me. It is some kind of simulation that I turned into something authentic.

I sensed that he turned his eyes from the lights to me.

\- Simulation?

What was I about to say? After what I heard just an hour ago, did I trust him enough to talk to him about that? Well, he told me about the stars. So, I wanted to return the favor.

\- Odbeei... Is like a simulation to me. I think I always knew that. Even before I left my hometown, came to live here... before all of this. I’ve been forcing myself to walk through these streets, among these people, to use my voice to entertain strangers, anything to pretend that I have all I need in this planet. But the truth is that I...

My eyes burned as at the end of the show, as when I talked to Soosa before leaving, as when he wiped away my tears and said he was taking me away from there. Now I had no intentions to hide them.

\- All I want is to run away... Leave this city, this planet, this life... – I turned to him, the image of his face blurred by my tears – Have you never wanted to... disappear?

\- Yes – his voice was low – Many times. But not anymore. Now, all I wish is to stay and fight.

I let out something that could be a laugh or a sob.

\- Here’s the problem. I hate fights.

He took a step closer to me. I closed my eyes and tears ran down my cheeks; I felt his arms pulling me to him, the fabric of his clothes rubbing against my wet face, the scent of his lotion. My heartbeats were painful inside my chest, so strong that he must’ve noticed them, just like I could hear his own now.

At some moment I heard him saying:

\- I want to show you something.

I stepped away, curious.

\- What are you talking about?

He smiled.

\- Go to the window.

I did it. He walked to a dark corner beside the mentioned window. There was a panel right below a lamp which I didn’t notice until I saw him turning on its controls. As he approached me at the window, I saw a subtle luminosity coming up from the floor, until then as black as the rest of the apartment though there was no carpet covering that section. I looked down and smiled when I saw tiny stars shinning around my feet. An holoprojection.

Soon the stars were so bright that the blue shade of my dress became visible among all that darkness. Even his uniform seemed blue at the points they touched.

He passed his arms around me for the second time. Now I kept my eyes open; there were reasons to do so.

\- I suppose you can dance.

The question surprised me a bit. If there was someone who I’d never associate to an activity such as dance, it was him. But I replied positively, and he raised a hand, his palm turned forward; I put my own hand against his, so tiny, still cold by the weather outside. His fingers closed, tangled with mine, leading it to his shoulder. I did the same to my other hand, and his palms came to my waist; their strength, sensed through the velvet, warmed up my skin.

When the first step was taken, I noticed some alteration in the sequence of movements of the stars, and a melody as low as a lullaby was heard.

\- It will only play while we dance – he explained.

Then we danced.

I didn’t know much about dance beyond what was common in Odbeei, nor how much he was familiar with our styles, but these worries were proved useless. He started and led a sequence of slow steps, distinct from everything I’ve ever seen; they didn’t require too much from one to be executed: they were fluid, free, appealing to the dancer’s instincts more than to his experience.

He would just go to wherever he wanted, and I would just follow him, with no restrictions or difficulties. For the first time in months, or years, I didn’t feel pressed or worn out doing something that wasn’t singing. It was not like it was imposed to me in the of a need, as many times in my life; I didn’t even know that it was what I craved until it happened. It was so comfortable, so easy, so relaxing just being there, conforming my movements to his own. I didn’t think about what I was doing; I didn’t need to. My body would work for itself. I could do that forever, and never say I was tired.

Was that how those who dominated by him used to feel?

It was his voice that brought me back.

\- You are an excellent dancer – I felt his breath close to my ear; under my hair, his left fingers let go of my waist and started to play with the tiny button that closed my dress right below my neck – You must have practiced for quite some time.

I laughed.

\- But I’m not dancing. I’m just following you.

\- And you do it so well.

\- Perhaps because it’s what I want to do.

The response I got from him was not a verbal one. I felt his hands pulling more my body against his, and his breath on my neck turned into soft kissed that gone from my ear to my clavicle; he risked a kiss just down here, but the fabric of my dress stood in his way, and he didn’t want to pull it away, not yet. His lips then followed the inverse path, reached my chin, and finally my mouth; the taste of the meedo was present all along. His fingers opened the button of my dress and stroke my skin under the fabric; mine, for their turn, tangled in his hair.

I step upon his feet and stood on tip toes; he passed his hands around my hips and held me in his arms. I considered surrounding his waist with my legs, but I hadn’t the time to do it: soon I found myself between the window’s transparisteel, the night and the lights out there, and his body, his thigh between my legs, touching, arousing me, his hands pulling up the skirt of my dress, his fingers stroking, pressing my thighs; the cold transparisteel caused my shivers, soon appeased by the heat emanating from his body. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that my breath became heavy, noisy, pressing my breasts again his chest; for a moment he interrupted the kiss, and I let a soft moaning escape, as of disappointment. With a muffled laugh, he reunited our lips and kept on what he was doing until I started to feel relaxed and flushed.

He unbuckled his belt and got rid of the coat; with his movements as free as possible now, his arms contained me with his strength, his hands coming and going through my skin with the same urgency of his eyes when they saw me singing, the same rapture, the same hunger. My arms passed around his neck, my hands stroking his back.

A sparkle of sanity crossed my brain, and I heard myself saying between one kiss and another:

\- Why me?

He replied as he carried on:

\- Why not?

\- I am nobody.

\- You try not to be.

\- Any problem?

\- No… It is just that… I don’t believe you…

He was no longer kissing me; now he was focused on smelling the perfume on my neck, the point of his nose almost tickling me when I was close to tears.

\- But you should – a tear fell before I could notice it – I wasn’t even supposed to be here...

\- But you are here... And you don’t want to leave... – a small bite on my ear lobe – Or do you... hm...?

\- No... – I whispered – I don’t want to... run... or fight...

\- I know... Then tell me, girl... Tell me what you want...

Another tear came, but I ignored it; I clenched my legs tight around his hips, bringing him to myself; he was now as aroused as me.

\- Won’t you say anything... hmmm?... You’re such a quiet girl…

I touched his lips covered with meedo with my finger points before licking them.

\- I want... hmmmmm... Me... You...

I didn’t say much, but he understood.

And that was exactly what he gave to me.


	7. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I had paid attention to what was going on around me, I wouldn't be caught by surprise that way. But I woke up that morning just to find out I was left with two choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we are reaching the part of the story that justifies the TAG "This is not going to go the way you think" and I'm so excited! Lilly's story is almost ending, and I don't want to think of how much I'll miss it!

_“You see me how I wish I was_

_But I’m not trying to be seen”_

_(Waxahatchee, Breathless)_

Without saying a word to him – maybe I’ve said goodnight or something – I lied down on the bed and fell asleep. I could have said I wanted to go home, but I was too tired (and too satisfied) to ask for anything and stood where I was.

When did I choose not walking away? When did I let someone subdue me that way, hold me and lead me wherever he wanted without having me showing any resistance? According to what they told me, I understood that if I was to let myself lean on any man, this man should never be him. But there I was, without letting myself go, imploring for one more kiss, one more stroke. When did I started to need so much to be with him, to have his exclusive attention, to be touched by him? When did my independence and my will became null?

What was I turning into? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. Was that the sensation of disappearing? If so, it must not be the nightmare I was led to believe in.

For many years, even when I was but I child, I was afraid to disappear. Of watching what I was becoming a shadow, being replaced by something strange, separated from me. I believed that it was going to happen when my parents started to and make plans for my future, when my friends said I was supposed to decide in favor of this and that, or even when my former boyfriend would suggest that we should think about what we were going to do in the next months. All those people – I loved them, indeed, but the way they loved me back was different, and that scared me.

I felt like if I’d stick around, their love would end up killing me. So, I ran to save myself.

So I came here, became what I wanted to be and replaced their love by the affection of strangers. Of people who would hear me sing; who worked with me; who which I used to hang out with. I surrounded myself with anything that resembled their love in its shape but differed from it in its chances of harm.

This plan worked for a long time, until that night when he saw me singing at that club. When he came to me when I tried to leave and made me reveal my true name to him. When through all he did he would expose his confidence that I would not run away, that I would end up wanting more, and would even tell it to him. He seemed to attract every emotions and desires that gravitated around him and mold them according to his own designs. And I justified him. I proved him right when I chose to come here. And I didn’t feel bad for that.

Maybe I shouldn’t. I think I always knew I wouldn’t run. I think I figured it out when my eyes first spotted him in the front row, concentrated, absorbing my voice and eating up my image; when I saw him turn to the officer beside him and ask something that I’m sure was about me; when looking back to me his eyes seemed to be on fire, like whatever the other man has said to him would improve his curiosity; when he made me taste him through his kiss under the lamps and here, as we danced upon the stars, as well as moments later.

When I woke up, I was alone. I knew that even before I opened my eyes and pushed the sheets away: the silence caused by his absence was easy to identify. I went to the refresher, looking for water to wash my face. When I came back, I sit on the bed and looked around to find my dress as I fixed my hair with my hands.

I spotted a pile of blue velvet on the floor, on the way between the window and the bed, and walked there to pick it up. I put it on as I went back to the bed. It was when I brushed my hair from my back to close the dress’ button that I noticed what was on the bed.

Upon the pillow beside that one upon which I laid my head a piece of flimsi was left folded. I sit on the bed’s edge and grabbed it. When I unfolded it, I found out it was a message; cursive letters formed those paragraphs written with old fashioned black plast. I didn’t know his calligraphy, but its firm aspect and the straightness of the lines didn’t let me question the message’s authorship.

This is what I read:

_“You seemed to be in such a deep sleep that I did not find it appropriate to try and wake you up. So, by the time you are reading this, I will have left a few hours ago._

_This was the most practical way I found to explain what happened just after you fell asleep: I received an urgent call on my datapad demanding my presence in a reunion between my group of dignitaries and the representatives of the Odbeei’s Senate. I will not bother you with diplomatic details; it is enough to say that after days of talking and negotiation, things did not go as we expected, and because of this we will have to leave the planet today._

_The chances for me to return to Odbeei are null. But I do not want it to mean a permanent separation between us. I understand that it might seem strange and even scary to you, by the little time we spent in each other’ company, but I want you to come with me. Yes, I am asking you to leave the planet and follow me, for I have been attracted to your person since the night I heard you sing for the first time. And I kept your words when you said you wished to leave your life here behind, as well as when you were singing about this in the club yesterday. So, I believe I can – and I must – do something for you in this matter._

_I must not return to the hotel, but I will know about your decision according to what you will do when the officer I sent to lead you arrive. He will call you by your name and offer himself to take you where you choose. If you decide to come with me, tell him to take you to the spaceport he was instructed to lead you to. If you do not, tell him you want to go home._

_If you come to the spaceport, there will be nothing to worry about; I will be here to care of everything. If you go back to your home, it will be so sad, but I will not question your choice. It is yours, and yours alone._

_A. Hux”_

I remember staying on the bed for some minutes after reading those words, sometimes looking around, sometimes looking to the message without seeing it.

So, he decided to leave just like this? No. People like him don’t act that way. When he said things didn’t go the way they expected, it’s clear that he was talking about his own organization. But still it was a bit untimely, and even unpolite, to leave the planet suddenly. Well, I had no experience in political matters, but I’m aware that no one in this category is used to hear no as an answer.

He also said that he wasn’t to return to the hotel. His leaving was imminent, I could see it, but did it mean that the decision of leaving came from him? I didn’t find it hard to believe that. Besides, he asked to leave with him; if he had autonomy to make such an invitation, it would certainly be under his reach to get any First Order’s representative out of Odbeei’s territory when he chooses.

Leaving with him or going back to my own home and continue to live my life among the clubs as I did before meeting him… How could I manage to live the same life as ever and forget that he existed? Should I then say yes and leave the planet? Was it really a good opportunity to take? What was I supposed to do? Why did make me choose between such rough paths?

For a moment, I didn’t want to think. I just hid my face on my hands and cried.

When I finally calmed down, Soosa’s words were the first thing I could think about. When was the last time I read or watched the holonews? Maybe some time before the date under the lamps. Many things might have happened since then, and I could find out about at least a part of the events, but I was too busy having fun to see what was happening around me.

But that was not the moment for crying and regrets. I wiped away my tears and started to walk through the apartment searching for a device with access to HoloNet. I found one not too far from the bed and searched for info about Odbeei’s politics. It wasn’t difficult to find holonews about the latest events, as much as it wasn’t hard to understand why Eshaak said he felt shivers down his spine while he played music to one of the First Order’s members.

To resume what I found, let’s just say that the deal between the First Order and the planet’s Senate did not please these latter, who had reasons to believe that our losses might be bigger than our gains, which could even lead us to the condition of slaves to the first ones; the reluctance to accept the deal resulted in dissatisfaction and anger among the First Order’s representatives, who were not willing to make any change in their terms and decided to leave and never come back. Problem is that this _never coming back_ didn’t mean just leaving Odbeei behind: rumors were that it would start a war, and there were no doubts about which side had the best military resources.

And he didn’t want me to stay here to see what was going to happen. However, accepting his invitation would mean taking a side on this conflict, whether I was interested in these matters or not. On the other hand, what kind of life I would live if I stayed in Odbeei? I’d only find out if I chose to stay and see what the First Order would do. And something was telling me that this would be the worst thing I could do. Theses occasions when I have such presentments were so rare that I didn’t use to ignore them. But this time it was a double presentment: if I stayed, things wouldn’t end up well; but if I left, they wouldn’t be much better. Would them?

Unless I...

While I was still on the bed wondering which was the best thing to do, a landing noise came from the hangar outside the building. I looked through the transparisteel door and saw that a small black ship has just arrived. I recognized the First Order’s red badge at its side; it was the officer he said he would send.

I looked through the apartment’s interior and found my bag on a corner on the floor. I walked to grab it and saw that all my stuff was still there, the way I left them: documents, clothing, a credit card and some flimsi sheets. I opened a small drawer of a furniture beside the bed and looked for a plast; when I found it, I kept it with the flimsi, closed the bag and left it on the bed, then I ran outside to meet the officer.

It was still early in the morning. It was almost as cold as the night before, but I ignored the bumps in my exposed arms and walked toward the ship. The officer who just got off it was wearing appropriate clothes to that temperature, but he couldn’t help rubbing his gloved palms on one another to heat them up. When he spotted me, he hid them behind his back and nodded.

\- Lorna.

Even unaccustomed to hear my true name on the mouth of strangers and with what I just read on HoloNet pounding in my mind, I managed to reply his greeting politely.

\- It’s me, Sir.

He went straight to the point:

\- I believe that General Hux has informed you about my arrival, Miss.

I nodded to confirm.

\- Well, where should I take you to, Miss?

The time to choose has come. I clenched my fists, my nails pressing my palms’ flesh. I took a deep breath. I knew where I was supposed to go. And if I knew that, I knew what I should respond too.

\- I... Please, take me to the spaceport as you were instructed to do, Sir.


	8. Spaceport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was left with a couple of flimsi sheets, a ship ride and a difficult choice to make. But soon in my life I've learned how to take any chance I could, so I took them all in this case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be lying if I said I'm not heart broken as I post this chapter. Many endings in just a few days, guys. It's too much for me. You know what I mean.

_“I’ve been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I_

_I’ve got a war in my mind”_

_(Lana Del Rey, Ride)_

_“But when she left, gone was the glow of…_

_Blue velvet”_

_(Lana Del Rey, Blue Velvet)_

The spaceship was not so different than the one who brought us the night before. Their size and class seemed to be the same, and the current ship’s interior was as black as the first one’s. it was strange that I didn’t notice if the pilot was the same; I was so distracted that I didn’t even look at his face when I entered the other ship.

This time, however, I had extra reasons to stay awake.

\- Can you tell me how long we will take to reach the spaceport, Sir? – I tried to sound casual as I rummaged my bag.

\- No more than a few minutes, Miss.

The man’s voice didn’t show any emotion worthy to be taken into account, from unpleasantness for his task to interest in his crew’s comfort. Good. That was good. I needed his silence and lack of interest to be able to put into practice the idea I had the moment when I came back to the apartment to grab my things.

Trying not to make any noise that would distune from the ship in motion itself, I picked the flimsy and the flat inside my bag; I put the sheets on my lap and started to think of something to write. I was aware I couldn’t take too long in it; according to the pilot, we would arrive at our destiny in a few minutes.

This is what I wrote:

_"Dear Sir,_

_According to the officer you sent to take me, we have to travel for some minutes to reach the spaceport, and it's during these minutes that I write this._

_I don't understand everything that's involved in your leaving, and now there's no time to try and do it, but I need to say how it makes me sad and scared. And when I've read what you left written for me, I added confusion to this strange mixture of feelings._

_The truth is that you, Sir, more than anyone I've ever met, intrigues and attracts me equally, and since the night I saw you for the first time you give me other emotions beyond these, so distinct that I'm unable to explain them through flimsi. You asked me once if this is all new to me, and I was not sure about what I should say to that, but now I know the answer: yes, everything that happened, and everything that could happen concerning us is new, strange and frightens me to death, perhaps because I found myself willing that more than I thought to be possible._

_All I want is to leave this planet forever, reunite with you, Sir, hear you saying my real name, being led and touched by your hands, follow you even to the Unknown Regions... I want to give up on any life path but the one you choose for me, Sir, give up my own name, silence my voice or sing for entire cycles if you want me to, Sir. Saying yes to you is everything I want, Sir._

_This is exactly why I know you won't believe me when you read this, but the fact is that wanting something is not enough. I can't do this to myself. I can't, and I won't._

_I've worked too hard to create the person I am today, I've ran away when I could, I've took the chances I've got and even create my opportunities when I've got none, everything to be that woman you saw on the stage and about who you've seek information with your colleague, Sir. You need to know how much I love her, Sir, and all I would do to keep her existing. Everything I've already done. Today, this means refusing to leave with you, Sir. Because I know that someday, sooner than you think, she would cease to exist as she stands in one of your ships, which she would see as nothing but a cage, where she, an exiled bird, would gradually lose her voice and the ability to fly, and would have no use as a living creature. You, Sir, would stick to what she once was and would refuse to see what she is in the present, and this would be the end of everything._

_I don't want to see it happening, as much as I don't want to see you taking part in this, Sir. Why adding a burden to the ones you've already got, Sir? I don't know what it means to be a General of the First Order - I'm too simple to understand, even if you'd explain it to me - but I'm sure it's not something for one to take lightly. You were already important before meeting me, Sir, and you will continue to be without me._

_Believe me when I say I am nobody._

_L."_

My eyes burned the whole time I wrote, but I refused to cry. When the letter was over, I put the flat back on my bag and folded the flimsi, keeping it hidden under the bag on my lap. The pilot kept flying the ship as he didn’t saw anything, and I made no questions until the end of the travel.

***

I didn’t ask the spaceport’s name to the pilot, though I could have done that, but when we arrived and I looked through the viewport, I understood it would be unnecessary. That was the largest and one of the newest spaceports that existed in Odbeei. I’ve never put my feet on that place before, but I knew about its name and fame.

Though I was accustomed to big crowded places, I wasn’t prepared to what I saw when we left the ship and walked out of the hangar to cross the internal grounds. They were higher and larger than our biggest shopping centers: each shop, each service station was placed far from one another, as if a clean view was a priority to the architects; even the capital’s streets couldn’t be compared to those corridors. The city, I use to think, was like a living organism, where the things and the creatures that would circulate through its bowels used to live in crowds, following some kind of order that only they could understand; the spaceport, on the other hand, was an artificial being in every single part: everything was rectilineal, silver, polished until our reflections appeared to follow us in all directions like ghosts.

The officer walked his way, not certificating if I was following his steps or stopping to look at anything that could catch one’s attention. I was following him close, until the limits dictated by etiquette, trying not to appear stupid or frightened.

But my narrow knowledge about the spaceport’s ways, as well as the officer’s indifference, were all I needed to do what I had.

At some point, when I noticed we were about to enter an area with larger hangar, with other classes of ships, some ready to leave and others just arriving, I called the man.

\- I suppose we are close, Sir?

He turned to me as if he was not expecting to hear me speak, but he answered with his usual politeness.

\- Yes, we are. Just a few instants walking, Miss.

We turned right and, just ahead, a star destroyer was in front of us, large, dark and terrifying. The ship by itself was taking the space that half of the other ships would need to land together. And those were not regular small ships. My feet refused to take one more step.

The officer stopped and pointed toward the destroyer.

\- There it is, Miss.

This time he turned to me to make sure I was listening. Then something in the way I looked made him stare at me longer than necessary and raise an eyebrow.

\- Something wrong, Miss?

Finally. The question I was waiting for. I ignored the monstrous shape just behind the officer and concentrated my attention on him.

\- No... Nothing wrong, Sir – I replied, cautious – But I’ll have to return to the spaceport’s interiors. I…

I needed to go to the _refresher_? I forgot to check an information? No, none of these would work with him. I...

\- I need to buy something. I didn’t have time to get it before – I ended up saying – And I won’t be able to find it in anywhere but Odbeei. It’s a native item.

Then, it was done. I’ve never been a good liar, but I knew how to take any chance: I could count on the fact that this man didn’t know me to the point of telling if I was lying or not. He looked confused to what he heard, and I didn’t give him time to clear his mind.

\- Forgive me for not saying anything earlier, but I was trying to find out if I could get what I want here. Fortunately, I saw it at a store in a corridor not far from that exit – I pointed the place behind us – I need return.

When he opened his mouth to make the first objection, I kept speaking.

\- It wasn’t a long way from there, Sir. I am sure there will be no inconveniences.

I didn’t know enough about him to be sure of what he thought about me or what I was doing either, but I knew the look in his face too well to get deceived: he was looking at me like a father trying to decide if it was wise or not to answer a sudden and strange request from his little daughter. Just like most of the middle-aged men would react. I always hated to play this part, but that was my only option: it was the kind of thing that wouldn’t work with younger and clever men like Hux, but the older ones tended to lose half of their discernment with quiet and sweet-tempered girls. The clubs in Odbeei were always infested by them.

Finally his voice was heard.

\- Well... the way wasn’t long, indeed...

He didn’t say anything else, but I knew I won. I took the flimsy sheet of my bag, folded it three times and gave it to the officer. He looked at it with a hint of suspicion, but soon I explained everything.

\- Please, take this to the General. It is a reply to something he sent to me. It’s confidential, and extremely important. Only he can know about this text, and the sooner he receives this message, the better.

The man was not so stupid as he seemed. I froze when he tried to unfold the flimsi as he spoke:

\- If it is as important as you say, Miss, maybe it’s better for you to give it to the General yourself.

It was when I made my last move. Before he could undo the first fold, I put my hands upon his.

\- You will have more opportunities to speak with him as soon as we get to the destroyer, Sir. Please, do me this favor. The case is urgent, and we are wasting our time here.

Even now, I am impressed with the effect the word _urgent_ can have on a military man. With no more arguing or questions, he nodded with the officers’ manner, clenched his gloved hand around the sheet and turned his back, walking fast toward the destroyer.

When I made sure I was out of his sight in case he looked behind, I ran back to the spaceport’s inner grounds, the paralyzing sound and the air blow of the ships vanishing behind my back.


	9. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I left. I finally left. My planet, my house, my people. The pilot, the ship, the spaceport. The General. All of this, all of them, was now behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I took too long to update this story, so I came here to apologize posting a new chapter lol
> 
> I struggled with this part because I wasn't sure if I should write two more chapters and an epilogue or just one and then the epilogue, but I started to think this was becoming boring, so I wrote this one as the last chapter. Yes, I already said the story was reaching its end, and though I myself was lowkey refusing to say goodbye to Lilly and her bohemian life, I must. I enjoyed every part of it.
> 
> The next part will be the Epilogue, which will attach everything and (surprise!) will not be narrated by the main character. It will probably be longer than most of the previous chapters, but I promise it won't be boring (>.<)
> 
> See you there 0/

When I decided to let the officer guided me to the spaceport, I knew that going back to my house after the First Order’s departure was not an option. It’s not that I already knew what was going to happen right after that, but the ride was my biggest chance. I didn’t even know where to go, or what would happen to me when I left my planet behind, but I still had my voice and the authority to choose my own place. This would never be taken from me, nor by my fear of the future, nor by a regime. Nor even by him.

Was the pilot already on board? Did the man contact him and pass the flimsy to his hands? What would he have said to explain my absence? And… what about _him_? Was he at some corner of his bridge reading what I wrote? Today, when I remember this, I can imagine the scenes as if they were happening before me. I can imagine him frowning as he takes the sheet from the officer’s hands, unfolds it while trying to stay calm, and starts to read the content; his blue eyes pass through the lines as blaster shots burning the sheet; his lips close in a twist; his teeth, hidden, grind, and his jawline clenches; he stands in his place, one hand behind his back, the other holding the flimsy, but the man who brought him the message notices the shaking he tries to contain, his gloved fingers wrinkling the paper with more astonishment and anger at every word read; at the end of the message, his icy eyes raise toward the officer and he demands the reason why the man let me go back to the spaceport all alone… I don’t like to think about what might have happened to the pilot.

Back to the spaceport’s inner grounds, I hurried through the lines that formed in almost every direction. Some people were buying their tickets; other were just arriving; and there were the ones who were preparing to leave. I was trying to think of any planet or system far enough from Odbeei, but my mind was a blank page.

I entered a store and bought the clothes I thought to be the farthest from my personal preferences; at the next store, which was selling accessories and cosmetics, I found a scissor and temporary hair dye; I chose a vibrant color, opposite from my natural shade, and went to the nearest refresher. There, I changed my dress for the new clothes, cut my hair and dyed all the sections of my hair I could reach without the help of a second mirror behind me.

The result didn’t please me, but there was no time to spent on vanity. I left the refresher, joined the shortest ticket line I saw and waited, always looking around, expecting to see any black uniform. To my relief, no one showed. The First Order left Odbeei.

***

I don’t want to reveal which planet I chose as my destiny. All I will say is that I asked for a list of the furthest places I could reach with a ship from Odbeei, and the Pantoran attendant was quick to show it me; as expected, the list wasn’t long. I pointed my destiny on the list and paid for my seat in the ship. Already on board, I avoided staying close to the viewports. Of course, the risk of being spotted by any First Order person no longer existed, but I wasn’t hiding from them.

I was afraid of giving up and leave the ship if I had the chance to see Odbeei’s territory for the last time.

***

When I found myself in a new planet, a new system, so far away from my own, all I did was asking myself the reason why I didn’t do that before.

For so long I told myself I wanted to leave Odbeei behind, abandon my house and say goodbye to the people I knew; turn myself into another person, with a different name, walking among strangers through alien streets. A change similar to when I left my hometown, although on a larger scale. I thought that by avoiding attachment to specific things or people, I was obeying what I took as my primary goal, but I was more bonded to what I had in Odbeei than I’d like to admit. I always knew I loved the large streets, the music, the colors and the spicy smell of my planet, but I told myself I could leave it all behind whenever I chose. One day. Any day. A day that never came.

Until now.

Perhaps I was afraid. Afraid of many things; some of them valid, others, not at all. Afraid of being alone in another planet – because this wouldn’t be the same as being alone in my homeland, in a region known to me. Afraid of not getting any job, or a place to live. Or even worse, afraid of being forced to work on something I do not approve or believe in order to get enough credits to survive. The fear of what could be ahead (or not) was too strong for me, and it turned my zone in Odbeei more comfortable than it really was.

Thus, when the idea of being out of my planet was no longer a shadow and became a part of reality, I understood that all the dismays and excuses I used in the past were nothing. Now that the greatest obstacle to my happiness was removed, there was nothing to hold me down. What could make me curl in fear now that all my sources of apprehension were gone?

I left the ship to my new home, looked around and smiled to myself. Even not knowing where I would spend my first night, where I would get some food or when I would get my first job. Even not yet making plans to contact my friends and my family to tell them I had to leave Odbeei. Even if the possibility of bumping into some First Order’s representatives in any place, at any time, should have been considered.

My eyes absorbed everything they could from the new planet, and I allowed myself to feel hope.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She managed to escape and built another life of her own. But who could tell if it will last long?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been an eternity, but finally, FINALLY, I translated the Epilogue and managed to post it here. Now I feel I'm allowed to move on from this work. Well, actually I'll continue to revise the grammar of the previous chapters, but to me it is officialy finished. Thank you people who came here and read this mess and even gave kudos to it, I really appreciate it <3

Soosa felt her throat sore when sang her last note.It was not the burn of exhaustion or the beginning of an illness, but of the tiredness that follows one more day of hard work coming to its end, with all the tasks accomplished, and all goals reached. She had felt like that other times in her life, even before she moved to that planet or had the chance to find out if she will continue to sing in her new home, but that was a sensation of which she will never be tired, and which would guide her until she lose her voice.

After showing her gratitude to the audience for their presence and attention in the name of all the musicians who worked with her that night, the girl put the microphone back on its stand and turned to leave the stage, the lights, the sound of clapping hands and the compliments behind.

Once she was out of the public’s sight, the club’s staff ran to offer her assistance: a female green-skinned Twi’lek asked if she needed help to take off her clothes and makeup, to which Soosa explained she’d rather do this herself; a human male with brown hair offered himself to bring her lunch, but she said she wouldn’t eat anything in at least two hours.

After using all kindness she had in her reach, Soosa finally came to the room reserved for her, put her things in order and left the club.

  
  


***

  
  


The distance between that particular club and the first public speeder stop was long enough to give her some minutes of walking, but Soosa didn’t think she was loosing something for having to walk. She liked it, and the buildings and shops that would raise up on the citizens’ place and the particular ships flying above their heads with a whistle. That planet, despite its large population and limited technology, was a good one: it had good food, the rents were affordable and people liked music. Everything Soosa needed to start her new life.

Not that it was easy at the start, or right now, a year later. She had nothing but the bag she brought with herself from that hotel room, which content were resumed in her personal documents, a moisturizing lotion and some credits just in case. Oh, and her credit card: fortunately, the bank that managed her card’s service had branches in another planets, including that one where she was living now, which made it possible for her to pay for a room and a decent meal in her first night there.

The next day, she was talking to people who were hosted on the same place during the breakfast time and found out there was a club in the surroundings where she could sing and be paid right after the show; soon, she found the place and talked to the responsible staff. After a quick test, she was approved and chosen as the next club’s star. Later that day, Soosa let herself smile and breathe in relief. At least that day, she understood hope… Until she returned to the hostel and raised her eyes to the holoscreen at its front, broadcasting the Galaxy’s latest news.

The First Order, displeased with the refusal of the distant planet Odbeei in accepting its terms, directed its most powerful weapon – a mobile battle station similar to the old Death Star, built in the roots of a wild planet – to the rebel plant in order to extinguish it.

Soosa observed the reporter and listened to his words as she wasn’t seeing nor hearing him in fact. As if she wasn’t really there, but in another place, witnessing the news as during a dream. A minute later, however, she found herself on her knees, on the sidewalk among the other people who were watching the holonews, her throat choking and her eyes blinded by tears. The faces of her father and mother, her siblings and friends alternated and blended between themselves in her memories, returning to the surface of her conscience as if they knew this was the only place where they were alive, where they could stay alive. The memories of the capital, her small apartment, the large streets, full of people, the strong smells and the music, the colorful lights and the meedos…

All in the past now. All gone in just an instant. A year had passed. A year, and the memory still caused Soosa the same chills she felt when she just heard the news. But the Galaxy, the Force or anything else seemed to have mercy on her, for there she was, one of the few daughters of Odbeei living a life that didn’t differ from the one she lived in her own planet. It was more than she deserved, and more than she would have the courage to ask for.

She look ahead and spotted the speederstop just some meters from where she was. She could reach it in a minute if she ran, but she had no will to do so, not that day; besides, there was no speeder parked: the show ended before the planned hour, and it was early. That’s why there was no people waiting.

When she finally reached the stop’s cover, she took a sit and looked around. For the first time, she noticed that there was less people on the sidewalk or crossing the avenue. Soosa frowned; no matter what time of the day, that particular avenue was always crowded, busy at its both sides, but now there wasn’t more than a dozen people at her sight’s reach. What if some curfew or movement boundaries were implemented and she didn’t see the news? No, it couldn’t be this. She was never the biggest fan of holonews, but fortunately for her there was gigantic holoscreens on the larger facades of the buildings, thus one didn’t need to access any device to keep up with whatever was going on at the time.

It must be something else. But Soosa certainly had nothing to do with it, so she decided to not think about it and wait for the first speeder to come. She turned to look at the direction the transport used to come from and saw something that made her stand up and hold her breath.

Crossing the street, with firm and identical steps, two men approached wearing boots and black uniforms.

  
  


***

  
  


She could not remember much of the path to the place where she was, though she just crossed it. she did remember entering it through a door, maybe at the top of a ramp, and looked over her shoulder, before one of the officers – because she recognized their uniforms, and this is what they were – beckon her to keep moving. After that, all that’s left were flashbacks of her own feet walking on a flat, black floor, as well as the pair who followed her close, one officer on each side, the sound of their boots reaching the dark walls and coming back to her ears in the form of an echo. On both sides of the corridor there were closed doors, like starship doors, but no one came to open them or crossed them coming from the places kept by them.

More corridors came after that first one, and then others, until they arrived at a new door, separated from the others. One of the officers pressed the side panel and it was divided in two. The second officer signed with his hand; she entered the room without a word.

The door was closed at her back with a hiss, and she felt like she will never cross it again.

  
  


***

  
  


Alone, not knowing what was going to happen, she started to observe the place. It was larger than the door suggested when they stopped before it, but she remember the corridors and thought there must be other rooms like this one. The furniture was black and there were no ornaments on it; somehow she imagined this kind of thing was not necessary here, and whoever designed these chambers was aware of this. The floor was covered by a dark, soft carpet, similar to the one she saw on a hotel room a long time ago; the walls were as dark as the ones of that hotel room, but there were luminous stripes who must intensify the reach of the lamps behind them at night. This made her look for the source of light that let her see so many details in a place where there did not seem to be anything that wasn’t black.

And she found it: a great transparisteel wall, that reminded her of a starship _viewport_. This finally convinced her that she was on a ship. She considered walking there to see outside, but a new sound caught her attention coming from a hidden part of the room. She concentrated on the sound and realized it was a song.

Right ahead there was some sort of passage with the shape of a door, but there was no panel on the walls that sustained it. She walked through this portal and found a sleep area: there was a bed, covered with blankets, bulky until they fell through the sides and reached the floor; she saw a small table on the opposite side of the bed, close to a sofa; upon it there was a tray with a pair of empty glasses, bottles inside an ice bucket and a plate with sweets she knew well.

Meedos. Red, covered in syrup and spice.

She walked back as if she saw a Force haunt.

The song played on. It was sweet, and its lyrics alternated whispers and high notes. It was sung by a woman. A woman who she knew so well, just like the meedos.

She looked around, searching for the origin of the sound and spotted a dark corner of the room, or at least it was what she thought, for an activated holotv was spreading its bright from there, playing the vid of a concert. She stepped back and bumped into the table, but didn’t drop anything; she then covered her mouth with a hand. The shock for recognizing the vid managed to be deeper than the one when she recognized the voice in it.

Her voice.

The woman in that vid was her.OnOdbeei. During her last show.That couple of Togrutas played alongside her while she sang. Two friends of her. she would never forget their names. One of them was called Eshaak. The other’s name was the one she was using now.

She was brought back from that dream when she noticed a shadow slowly drifting through the holoscreen, coming to her. A voice was heard with its approaching.

\- Finally, we met again.

He stopped in front of her, and she had to look in his face for some time to be sure he was indeed the owner of that voice, which she heard for the last time almost a year ago and thought she would never hear again. It _was_ him; it was impossible to be deceived. The same pale face, the same ginger hair; the steady shape of his jawline, those rosy lips and blue eyes were also the same. The way he used to walk and the gestures, the hands behind his back, nothing changed.

And she was a fool to think he would forget. Forget? It was not something for men like him.

On his lips grew something close to a smile.

\- Don’t you have a word for me? – and, whispering – You’re such a quiet girl…

A lump appeared in her throat when she heard that.

He turned around and stopped behind her, who didn’t dare to move away; then he pointed at the holoscreen.

\- You might think that this is just a recording of your last show in your home planet. But it is more than that. In fact, this is the only original holovid recording that remained from Odbeei.

She felt her legs weakening, but forced herself to stand.

Among everything that has been recorded, documented and cataloged in Odbeei, many things could have been saved; many could have been copied and filed somewhere on HoloNet; it certainly has been done, and there must be copies of many things around. But he wasn’t denying the existence of replicated files from the planet’s directory. He was saying that this holovid that was now being played in that dark room just for them was the only recording created and taken directly from Odbeei; any other possible copy or similar file was now lost.

That holovid was what should be called the only remaining proof that there was a planet called Odbeei once. And she was the main theme of it.

And now it belonged to the person who decided for her home planet’s destruction as well as everything she knew.

Before she noticed, he walked behind her, and his voice was heard again;

\- Can you imagine how many times I had to play it to see your face again?

Her hands were inert on the sides of her body. On her left one, she felt a touch, so subtle that it could pass as just an impression if it didn’t increased while advancing from her hand to her arm, until it reached her shoulder;  with his gloved hand, he brushed her hair away from this spot; she sensed his approaching, and so the moment when he took a strand of her hair and brought it close to his nostrils, smelling it.

\- You surely knew how to disappear – she heard him say to her ear – I had to spend an entire year to get you back. A year without knowing what you have turned into. But this holovid was not everything that guided my research.

H e walked back to his previous spot, standing between her and the holoscreen. Suddenly, he seemed to remember of something and took what appeared to be a folded piece of flimsi from his pocket.  He then opened it and started to read its content; she recognized it right in its first words. It was written by her, a year ago, and left under an officer’s responsibility until it could reach the hands of its true addressee.  And of course he kept it, and maybe re-read its sentences countless times, judging by the wrinkles on it, waiting with patience in this galaxy for the moment when he could inform her that he has received her message.

And now he was reading her words with the same feelings that must have stormed inside him when he read them for the first time.

When he finished, he folded the flimsi again and after smelling it for a second as if he was sensing its fragrance, he kept it on his pocket.

\- I kept with me everything you told me in that hotel, as well as what you wrote here. Maybe you don’t see your own words as something extraordinary, let’s just say that one cannot forget about words like these, nor about the person who said them.

For the first time, she moved her lips and her voice was heard inside that room.

\- I… I don’t understand... – she stared at him, still wishing all of this was nothing but a dream – How?…

A smile grew on his lips, the same one that delighted her once; now, she trembled before it.

\- You gave me all the possible references. All that I need to do was to search.

He turned to the holoscreen as he spoke and turned it off. The holovid’s image disappeared, leaving that corner in the dark.

- The possibility that you might have returned to your own residence could be excluded with no long deliberations.  As soon as I assimilated the content of your letter, I realized you went back to the spaceport in order to buy a ticket to outside the planet. By that time, I could not send my men back to the building, but I could gather everything I knew and try to guess your next steps. Judging by what you told me, I understood that if you wanted to leave Odbeei, you would have chosen the most distant planets. Besides, during the time we made company to each other, your love for the stage, for the music and the colors was blatant in every word, every gesture, so that I could be sure that you would not go to a planet so different from your own. It was not so hard to create a list of the probable planets which where I could investigate. Once the list was finished, all that I had to do was to seek for new names in the artistic scene of each planet on it. However, we are talking about entire planets here, so you will not be surprised that my research has lasted so long, and even more if you remember that I am a busy man –  he smiled; then lowered his eyes to the small table beside them –  Perhaps it was because of the many things with which I have to deal that I missed a single detail that could have resumed many months in my wanderings, or even turned them into a few days...

She followed his gaze and saw that he made a gesture with his left hand toward the plate with the meedos. He took one of the treats and put it on his mouth, but no bite was visible when he moved it away. However, his lips were red by the caramel.

\- You certainly know about the color it leaves on one’s lips.

After saying that, he brought the treat close to her lips; she didn't make any attempt to step away or to stop him. He put the fruit back on the plate, and turned back to the girl, touching her face, stroking her lip with his thumb; the touch of his glove's leather was warm as if there was no glove to make a clear separation there. His thumb left her lip and moved to her chin, holding it firmly as he examined as if he wanted to observe the effect of the caramel's color upon her skin.

A tear rolled through her cheek when she raised her eyes to him, but her body stood still, as if it gave up on any desire of running away or defending itself. He brought his other hand to her face and wiped the tear, with manners that would be seen as led by compassion if circumstances were different.

\-  Shhh –  and bringing her close , he passed his arms around her as he spoke to her ear –  We both had what we wanted... But is there a price that's too high for one who wishes the same as us?...

She didn't have nor an answer nor the strength to give to him. She closed her eyes and chose the silence. She felt when his lips touched her ear, and then moved away and met her mouth, first with something close to delicacy, or even sweetness, but no long after becoming hungry because of the long time they have been separated from each other. Soon they were on her chin, tracing an avid path through her neck and leaving a read line on the spots they touched. His fingers were now slipping through her shoulders; they wrapped around the straps of her dress and took them away, the kisses following through their previous spots.

At some point, he interrupted what he was doing and stroke her cheek, as if he was thinking of something to ask from her.

\-  Among all the things your company provided me, there is one that I miss the most –  his fingers slipped to her throat, which made her swallow, but they didn't do anything but to draw its shape and return to their previous position  –  Can you sing to me again ?

A nd she sang. She sang as he kept on what he was doing, when he took her in his arms and stated the reason why he has been looking for her all that time.

S he didn't protest, for she had no reasons to do so. Any reasons she might have had to resist - her planet, the people she loved, the life she has built there and the person she has become - no longer existed. More than she could count or mourn was lost that day, and there was no way to undo the harm.  All that she could do was to imitate him in his decision of preserving the holovid; imitate him and keep in her memory everything she could. About all that happened she wouldn't allow herself to forget, for she couldn't dare become something less than him, whose continuous whispers on her ear made it clear that he didn't forget her true name.


End file.
